Toy Soldiers
by HolyOrdersOtaku
Summary: James Ironwood was a common soldier once. But one day, he was assigned guard duty at a top secret research lab. An accident occured, and he was given the metal implants that people know him for now...but he also met a certain mechanical girl that day. Since then, he has plotted a course for his country, and, as a whole, his world. Rated T for language.


Prologue: Site Lambda

Atlas Central Cooperative Engaged Neuro-Technilogical Science (ACCENTS) Base-λ Atlesian Military Time: 0400

Research: Development of Anti-Grimm Electrical Neuro Tech (AGENT) [CODE NAMED: Murakumo]

6 Years Ago: Top Secret Location

* * *

Colonel James Ironwood looked about the pristine, sickeningly clean room he found himself in. He didn't much care for the eggheads, but even in his current, seemingly high rank, he was not immune to the orders of his superiors. He was a soldier, and if General Azure wanted him to oversee this meaningless research facility, then so be it. It didn't make him feel comfortable, though. Especially considering that there was always an Atlas Intelligence spook hovering over himself and the scientists at all times. _What is AI doing here?_ he constantly thought to himself. Not that he'd ever find out. He was a soldier on a need to know basis, and he didn't need to know.

That said, today seemed to be "special" somehow. The eggheads were all running about in a frenzy, spouting off scientific jargon to each other in such a quick, precise flurry of words that he'd almost thought they were speaking another language. Occasionally he'd catch a phrase here and there that made some sort of sense.

"The time table's been accelerated!"

"We're not ready! We can't do it yet!"

"Didn't you hear about ACCENT Rho? The test went haywire and leveled the place!"

"Number 17?!"

"Subject Rho has..."

And then he'd lose it in the cacophony of shouts and frantic chatter. _ACCENT Rho? Site Rho was destroyed?_ he thought as he tried to piece it together. He had a sinking feeling. What happened? Was it the White Fang? Did another kingdom attack? Was it a rogue terrorist group? Why would site Rho be destroyed?

A part of him was thankful that this site, Lambda, hadn't been leveled by whatever force had destroyed Rho, but he still had the beating, cold as metal heart of a soldier that demanded he fly straight to Rho and fight back the enemy.

Whoever the enemy was.

He felt a gentle tap on his shoulder and he turned to see the AI spook standing to his right. "Quite the situation we find ourselves in, eh, Colonel?" he said with a yawn.

Ironwood looked the man up and down, unsure of what to say in response. He was shorter than Ironwood by a full head, he kept his face clean shaven, and he always toted a cigar in his mouth. He never wore his military uniform, so Ironwood was unsure of just what rank the man was, but seeing as how he was a spook, he was under the assumption that he was in charge, regardless of rank. In place of a uniform, he wore a simple suit with a red tie, brown leather shoes polished bright, a white overcoat, and a black bowler's hat atop his bright red hair. He puffed at a cigar with a slight smile on his face. "Yes sir," Ironwood said, not even sure of what the spook's name was.

"Now now, James, there's no need to be so formal. You can call me Roman," the spook said with a smile.

Ironwood looked at him skeptically. "Is that even your real name?"

"I wouldn't tell you one way or the other, now would I, _Colonel_." Roman emphasized Ironwood's rank, implying that he ranked higher.

Ironwood stood straighter. "Sorry, sir."

Roman chuckled. "I'm just yanking your chain. No need to be so alert. We're perfectly safe here, underground in Lambda."

Ironwood felt uncertain. "What's this about ACCENT Rho?"

"Hm? Ah, yes. ACCENT Rho is kind of...off the books for good now, I suppose." He said this with a smile on his face. Ironwood felt sick to his stomach. He opened his mouth to ask what happened, but Roman cut him off with, "The details are classified, I'm afraid. Needless to say, I can tell you two things: Rho was destroyed seven hours ago, and the same thing may happen here if we're not too carefel."

"Seven hours ago? Why am I just now hearing about it?"

Roman continued smiling. "He said, she said, essentially. Atlas Intelligence wanted to keep it completely quiet for a short while to avoid a panic, but someone blabbed a little early." He waved his arm, gesturing at the scurrying scientists who were rushing to grab notes, documents, and computers. "And what do we have to show for it? Panic."

Ironwood felt the sweat bead on his brow. "Shouldn't we evacuate the facility? Just in case?"

"Oh, heavens no. This has forced ACCENTS's hand; we must move ahead with our plans."

"And what...no, never mind. Classified."

"Now you're getting it, James," Roman said. "But don't worry, you'll know soon enough. Let's head into the main control room and enjoy the show, shall we?" Leading the way, he entered through a sliding door with Ironwood trailing behind. They entered and saw a group of lab coat wearing scientists, each on their personal terminals typing away equations and plotting graphs; Ironwood couldn't make heads or tails of it. "How soon can we start, Dr. Asimov?" Roman asked.

A graying, older man turned to face the two military personnel that had come in and frowned, Doctor Isaac Asimov never approved of the military's presence in his labs and control rooms. Clearing his throat, he spoke up. "Within minutes." He looked around. "Is it true? Did Rho really get destroyed?"

"I'm afraid so, Doctor," Roman nodded.

Dr. Asimov shook his head. "Then we have no choice. We _must_ do this now, or risk losing precious time and research data. If Number 17 is in that rageful state, she may yet hunt down the remaining twenty-three sites."

"You mean _it_ , Doctor."

"No, I mean _she_. We may have created her, but she is now her own being...and she's on the loose."

Roman laughed. "It's the story of Frankenstein then."

"Aye," Asimov nodded. "And like Frankenstein, we'll all die someday because of the sins we commit today." He shook his head before looking up.

In the front of the room was a large window. Beyond, Ironwood could see what looked like a sarcophagus hanging by a steal cable, and a huge pit that went all the way to the molten magma beneath Remnant's surface. He was told that the site ran on geothermal energy, but now that he noticed the sarcophagus, he suspected the magma had another role to play.

"Team-A: Status?" Asimov asked.

"Geological Activity has been artificially reduced below the green line. The chasm is stable."

"Team-B?"

"Sarcophagus experiencing minimal white noise. All signals reaching the subject."

"Team-C?"

"Artificial interference at a minimal. All staff have evacuated the catwalks and the nearby halls. We're quite. Nothing to disturb it, sir."

Asimov sighed. "Nothing to disturb _her_ ," he corrected. "We're good to go. If anything goes wrong, Andrew, cut the cable and drop her into the core. I'm not risking Site Lambda like Rho did."

"Roger," Andrew, a faunus scientist said.

Asimov turned to Roman. "Are you sure about this?"

"No," Roman said with a smile. "But my orders are also _your_ orders. Hatch her."

 _Hatch?_ Ironwood thought. _What is going on? Who is_ she _that Asimov is referring to?_

Before he could voice any of these questions, Asimov flipped a switch and the lights began to dim. The room began to rumble, and the sarcophagus began to glow an eerie light green color. "What is going on?" Ironwood asked.

Roman's smile widened. "We're creating the ultimate weapon against the Grimm, and any other foe that may stand in our way. The sword: Murakumo."

"A sword? All this for a sword?"

"Not your standard sword," Asimov chimed. "A living, breathing weapon that can act of its own accord." He shook his head. "We shouldn't be doing this. If Number 17 went berserk...then who's to say Number 11 won't?"

"Number _Eleven_? How many are you making?"

"Twenty-four," Roman chimed. "At least, that's the plan. One for each letter of the alphabet." As if on cue, a green symbol appeared on the sarcophagus; λ.

"She's hatching," Asimov said. The lights blew, and the power shut off throughout the room. "Do we still have cable control!? I want to drop it into the core if its a failure!"

"The cable system is hydraulic, not electrical," Andrew said, his hand on a small lever. "If she's hostile, I'll drop her."

Everyone, including Ironwood, had their gaze transfixed upon the box outside of the window. The symbol glowed brighter and brighter, and the room began to rumble again. The window vibrated to the point of shattering, and the scientists were awestruck at the power before them. Four small pistons popped out of the sarcophagus with a gaseous hiss, and the lid popped off and plummeted into the magma below.

A small, slender, nude female figure rested within, her eyes closed and ignorant to her surroundings. "A girl!?" Ironwood declared in confusion.

"Hush!" Roman snapped. "Don't make a sound. It may provoke her."

"She's just a girl! Why is Atlas performing experiments on children?"

"We're not," Roman said as though it were a matter of fact. "We _made_ her."

No one pulled their eyes away as they waited to see what would happen. Suddenly, with her eyes still closed, she stepped forward...

And leapt across the huge gap between the box and the now open window. Andrew didn't have the time to drop the cable. There she stood, in the center of the room. Her hair was a bright orange, and her skin was a pale, milky color from her head to her toes. Freckles even appeared sporadically across her tiny, delicate looking body. Her mouth opened, and she began to say in a monotone; "Connecting...Connecting...Connecting..." Her eyes slowly opened, revealing them to be a brilliant emerald.

"Connection Established. Anti-Grimm Electrical Neuro Tech ONLINE. Search_protocols. : ERROR. Files not found. Reworking...Reworking...SSD found...search_ ...data found. Anti-Grimm Electrical Neuro Tech unit now identifying self...RECOGNIZED. Unit recognizes self as Murakumo Unit Number 11: Lambda. Searching for other Murakumo Units...Searching...Searching...Searching..."

"What is she doing?" Ironwood whispered to Asimov.

"Looking for others like herself...we rushed our timetable. She's missing all of her protocols. She doesn't understand her purpose yet."

She looked around at all the scientists. "Searching...Searching...Searching...Connection Failure. No Murakumo Units within connection zone." She locked eyes with Asimov. "What is my purpose?"

Asimov started to speak, but Roman got in the way. "Lambda, my dear, _you_ are an Anti-Grimm combat device, designed to fight the enemies of Atlas."

"Searching," she said. "Purpose makes no sense. War has been gone for eighty years. No hostile intent predicted from neighboring kingdoms. You're purpose is a lie. This unit requests facts."

"It _is_ a fact that we're on the verge of war. Every nations senses it, Lambda. Why, someone only last night sabotaged your sister, Rho and made her attack her friends. You don't want that to happen again, do you?"

 _S-sabotage!? Is that true?_ Ironwood asked himself.

"This unit doesn't believe you. Searching...Torchwick, Roman; member of Atlas Intelligence. You seek control. This unit desires freedom."

"Freedom?" Roman laughed. "You're a god damned _machine_! A puppet! A _doll_ for my amusement!"

"Unit detects hostility in target's voice," she said flatly. "Murakumo: ACIVATE." From her back, six blades appeared and floated behind her. " .exe. Target identified. Orders: termination."

And she lunged for an attack.

Ironwood acted out of reflex and got in the way. Her blades pierced his body, and he fell to the floor in a pool of his own blood. He look up from the ground, staring up at the naked girl that had just tried to kill Roman.

She stared back at him, but her flat, empty eyes showed life, which surprised him. "Innocent...casualty...combat sequence...dissengage..." He saw tears streaming from her eyes. "This unit is... _I_ am sorry." She got to her knees and went limp while paramedics rushed into the room to stabilize Ironwood.

But all he could think about in that moment wasn't rage and distaste for the girl.

It was something different.

Something...ambitious.

And with those thoughts, he lost consciousness.

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Hello readers. I know, I know: I'm starting a new story and not finished the others. I really need to get on that. I _will_ finish them some day...hopefully. Life's busy now though. Started paying student loans off and what not. Working 40+ hours a week as well. When I am off, I tend to sleep or play games. Usually sleep. I like sleep.

So, this is loosely based on Blazblue in terms of the Murakumo units, and the fact that I'm tackling this story from a military standpoint. But that's as far as the similarities go. I _barely_ comprehend Blazblue's story; I'm not gonna adapt it for RWBY.

I plan to tie it into the RWBY series somehow, but we're starting in the past: thus a Colonel Ironwood, rather than a General.

Till next time, friends!


End file.
